


Control

by Nanubi



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Art, Bad Puns, Chara Has Issues, Chara Has Their Own Body, Chara Needs a Hug, Chara Redemption, Chara Swearing, Established Alphys/Undyne, F/F, F/M, Female Chara (Undertale), Flirting, Fuku Fire Gets some Love, Genderfluid Frisk, Graphic Novel, Houseplant Flowey, Manga & Anime, Music, Papyrus Knows More Than He Lets On, Parent Grillby (Undertale), Post-Undertale Pacifist Route, Post-Undertale Pacifist Route - "I want to stay with you.", Protective Grillby, Protective Sans, Psychopathology & Sociopathy, Selectively Mute Frisk, Teacher Toriel, Therapy, Tsundere Flowey, as she should
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-12
Updated: 2017-07-11
Packaged: 2018-12-01 03:29:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,024
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11477691
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nanubi/pseuds/Nanubi
Summary: And all the kids cried out "Please stop, you're scaring me!"I can't help this awful energy.GOD DAMN RIGHT, you SHOULD be scared of me.Who is in control...?xXxChara opens her eyes to see a shattered barrier and a pile of sleeping monsters. The monsters she'd killed, over and over and over and OVER and O V E R...Frisk catches her eye, face filled with Determination as they gave her a warm smile, hands moving happily."Welcome back!"





	Control

_Author's Note - Howdy!_

_...Ah. You have no idea how badly I wish to ask you, "Would you like a cup of tea?"_

_But...haha, It's hard to be friendly with each other, considering the...circumstances._

_You're here for...this. And I'm here to give it to you._

_...It was nice to meet you, Reader._

_Goodbye._

 

**_W A R N I N G_ **

_This fic contains Past Rape of Underage Children, Dubious Consent with two minors, continued Underage Sexual Content, most of which is Explicit, Body Horror including excessive blood and its loss, broken bones, sickness including vomiting, and Explicit Violence with a bladed weapon. Also, everything else you'd expect from a Chara-centric fic._

 

_It's a beautiful day outside._

_Birds are singing..._

_Flowers are blooming..._

_...You could be outside, living without experiencing this..._

_...You still want it. Don't you?_

_Hahaha..._

_You really are an IDIOT. Arent'cha?_

_This has been in my head for so long._

_Hahaha...I've felt it wriggling._

_How could you feel left out, knowing what's coming?_

_..._

_I guess I could always count on you, huh, _____?_

 

* * *

 

 

_I'm bigger than my body..._

_I'm colder than this Home..._

_I'm meaner than my D E M O N S . . ._

_I'm bigger than these bones..._

 

_And all the kids cried out, "Please, STOP! You're scaring me!"_

_I can't help this awful energy._

_God damn right, you should be scared of me._

_Who is in control?_

_\--Halsey, Control_

 

Chara opened her eyes.

Yes.  _Her_ eyes. The eyes she hadn't used in 13 years.

13 years of being bound to Frisk. Watching them, guiding them.

Every now and then, managing to snatch the reins away and carve dusty furrows into the underground.

She slowly reached up, touching her chest...

The locket. Her green striped sweater, the khaki shorts, the brown loafers.

All there. As if she'd never...

Hang on just a  _fucking...!_

Chara sat up, and it was harder than she remembered.

She was  _more_ than she remembered.

She was...older. There were the beginnings of breasts pressing into the sweater, uncomfortable and heavy despite their small size.

And she was taller. Much taller than Frisk.

... _Frisk._

She looked around for the first time, noting the pile of sleeping monsters. She could rattle off the stats of each one as she looked at them, unable to hide her scowl at the sight of that damned comedian, lying half on top of Papyrus and half on top of...

...Mom.

There was a soft sound, a scuffle, and Chara turned her head.

Frisk had the most Determined look they'd ever had, and even then they were grinning from ear to ear, happy tears streaming down their cheeks as they ran to her, tiny tan arms thrown around her neck.

She stiffened at the physical contact, feeling the strangest emptiness where she had expected anger.

She just felt...numb.

"Frisk." She rasped, voice scratchy and tortured and  _ugly,_ They had always told her she was ugly. She grimaced, reaching up to touch her throat before remembering the eight year old she had attached to her like a fucking tumor.

They pulled back, scrubbing at their eyes with the sleeves of their sweater as they grinned at her.

 _Welcome home!_ They signed, hands flying so very fast in their excitement.  _I did it! I SAVED you!_

"Why." She asked, voice still ragged. Frisk's smile dimmed as they watched her, before their expression softened.

 _You deserve to see the surface as much as any of us._ They signed, significantly slower.  _Mom and Dad missed you._

Chara stared at the child.

And then she leaned forward, scarlet eyes glittering with anger.

 _This._ She could handle this.

"Not Mom and Dad." She hissed, and Frisk leaned back, suddenly nervous. "They can be  _your_ Mom and Dad. They are  _not_ my Mom and Dad."

_But I thought--_

"I don't give a fuck what you  _thought,_ Frisk.  _I'd sooner strike them dead all over again than...!"_

Pain. It lanced through her chest, taking her breath, and she fell forward slightly, smacking Frisk's hand away as they tried to catch her.

"Chara..."

She looked up, face twisted in pain and anger at the sound of the child's voice.

So full of love. Mercy.

Determination.

"Get away from me, Frisk." She said, voice filled with a darkness that made Frisk scootch away across the rock. "I don't need, nor want your fucking help."

 _Chara._ They were signing again, face sad.  _Let me help you. You don't have to be alone anymore._

"If I had a knife, I'd cut that look off your face." She muttered, as she laid herself out on the ground. She slowly rolled onto her side, wincing as another flicker of pain shot through her chest.

She pillowed her head on her arm, snarling silently as her hair (too long) brushed against her face, tickling her nose.

She  _sneezed._

She laid there for a long moment, the tickle diminishing in her nose as she stared at where the barrier had once been, simmering with rage.

Would the torture never cease?

 

* * *

 

_They have killed everybody,_

_Like an animal..._

_They have killed everybody..._

_Through the window..._

Chara sat in the lunchroom, the thudding electronic ( _Not_ dubstep, fucking amateurs) beat nearly deafening through her earbuds.

Just like she liked it.

Her music was hard. Often angry. Bands and artists that Toriel disapproved of and filled Asgore with worry.

Just like she liked it.

Cannibal Corpse, KoRn, EDM remixes of songs...

Such as what she was listening to now, allowing the music to send her back to a simpler time...

_Dash. Slash. Dash. Slash._

_Miss. Miss. Miss. Miss. Miss-_

"Chara!"

The voice was barely audible over her music. She scowled, her graphite pencil stilling as she reached a stained pair of fingers up to remove her right earbud.

Oh, goody.

Ms. Ainz stood before her, kind eyes and motherly disposition filling Chara with an equal mix of discomfort and hatred.

And she was staring at her art.

"Hello, Ms. Ainz." Chara intoned, voice completely devoid of emotion or inflection. "May I help you?"

The teacher was tilting her head, staring at the scene sketched in graphite on the thick, starchy paper as if it were a photograph.

The light, shining in from the windows of the Judgement Hall, and a squat, grinning skeleton standing a short distance away, eyes devoid of light as an enormous, goat like skull slid partially out of nothing, jaws already filled with brimming light.

She remembered it well...which was why she loved to draw it.

It was the first time she'd seen Sans' special little trick. The Gaster Blasters, she'd found out later.

Ingenious in their efficient and simple use of Magic. Able to be constantly and consistently used without draining any more of the Comedian's energy reserves than was absolutely necessary.

A perfect attack, for such a lazy pile of garbage.

"Chara." Ms. Ainz said softly, still staring down at the paper. "Isn't that Mr. Serif?"

Chara snorted, bringing her pencil back down, smirking to herself as she quickly and expertly sketched a box into the upper right corner of the page.

The letters scratched themselves into the paper as her hands moved fluidly, almost lovingly across the paper.

* it's a beautiful day outside...

"It certainly is." Ms. Ainz said uncertainly.

Chara's smirk only grew.

* birds are singing...flowers are blooming.

* on days like these...

* kids like you...

"Chara."

* S H O U L D  B E  B U R N I N G  I N  H E L L

Ms. Ainz sucked in a soft breath as Chara set down her graphite, softly brushing her fingers across the page to wipe away any particularly large grains that still clung to her work.

"One for the wall, I think." Chara said, staring down at it.

"What else is on your wall, Chara?" Ms. Ainz asked softly.

Chara stared at the piece, her smirk disappearing. Replaced with a blank, if slightly curious, look.

"Why do you want to know?"

"I'm interested in you, Chara." Ms. Ainz told her.

Chara's smirk returned.

"Interested? I'm sorry, Ms. Ainz, I'm afraid I like my women with a bit less... _Human_ in them."

Chara was filled with pleasure at Ms. Ainz's obvious discomfort.

And yet the woman  _pressed on._

"It's good you know your preferences already, Chara. A lot of people struggle with that kind of thing their whole lives."

Chara snorted again.

"Weak people." She said, beginning to flip slowly through her sketchbook, making absolute certain Ms. Ainz had ample time to take in each piece.

Maybe she was showing off...a little. But her art had really improved over the last year.

Undyne the Undying, armor melting, her face twisted in a look of utter terror as Alphys' name stretched from her mouth, twisting like a snake in a mockery of a passionate cry.

A beautiful rendition of her knife, a goat's eyes reflected in the blade as thick, dark blood dripped from the handle.

A field of softly shaded flowers, the sky dark as fire rained from the sky and a small village in the distance burned.

She was particularly proud of the last one she flipped to, of a middle aged man, his throat opened enough that his vertebrae glinted from the meat mess of his throat, his arms crossed across his chest almost peacefully even with the look of agony on his face.

She had spent a lot of time, getting that expression right.

It'd been a few centuries since she'd seen it, after all.

"Who...Who is that?" Ms. Ainz asked softly.

Chara deliberated on answering, wondering if mandatory therapy could be in any way entertaining.

 _Yes._ She thought, smiling softly as she stared at her hard work.  _It definitely could._

"My sperm donor." She said nonchalantly, making the kindly old woman behind her flinch. "To call him my father would be factually correct...but does one not have to earn that title through love and support?"

Chara looked up at her English teacher, raising an eyebrow.

"Chara." Ms. Ainz said softly, gently. "Why are you so angry?"

"He never showed me love." Chara said, pointedly ignoring her as she looked back down at the piece. "Well...not the right  _kind_ of love, any way. Odd how a man can treat someone like a woman, when they're nothing but a girl."

Ms. Ainz was painfully silent behind her, and Chara smiled.

She closed her sketchbook with a sharp  _Slap!_

"I have Thor'sdays off completely, and Saturnsday free after 3 pm. I'm sure you'll be phoning Toriel and Asgore about our discussion, and I'd hope I have a say when the supposed 'specialist' meets with me."

Chara looked up at the teacher, staring into her shellshocked eyes.

"Oh, honestly, Ms. Ainz." Chara said as she got up, quietly adjusting her skirt as she slid her earbud back in. "Humanity is sludge. That shouldn't come as a surprise to someone your age."

_Monster._

_How should I feel?_

_Creatures lie here_

_Looking through the window--_

 

 

* * *

 

 

Chara sat in the large, unnaturally comfortable armchair, sinking into it as she held her sketchbook in her lap.

Smirking. Watching the "specialist" furiously scribble notes onto her clipboard, a soft sheen of sweat glinting on her forehead.

Something in her had expected a man. Perhaps sexist of her, but the thought of a Therapist trying to get her to bare her soul (but not her SOUL) for "help" had filled her mind with images of a balding man in a suit, spectacles, perhaps a desk covered in paperweights and reports but no personal pictures or belongings. No ammunition for particularly bitter clients.

Dr. Amos was nothing like that.

She was young. She had to have  _just_ received her doctorate, and that in and of itself was hilarious. Fresh from the last of her schooling, ready to help...

And she gets Chara.

Chara looked about the office again, taking in the... _personality..._ shown in the small room.

The walls were painted a soft, creamy green. A calming color, to be sure, but also the color of ocean algae, hiding whatever lay below to reach out and snag you when you weren't paying attention.

The color of mostly healed bruises. Of mottled corpseflesh.

Ah...The memories were so sweet.

Chara began to giggle.

Dr. Amos looked up, reaching up to gently adjust her glasses.

"Talk to me, Chara." She said softly. "Let's start with...your name."

"My name?" Chara asked amusedly, lips quirking up.

"Yes." Dr. Amos crossed a leg over the other, shapely and tautly muscled, wrapped in dark stockings that disappeared into her black pencil skirt.

 _A runner?_ She thought to herself, idly regarding the tense muscles of the woman's calf.

"Why." Chara asked, looking back up at the woman.

Dr. Amos smiled uncomfortably.

"Your legal name is Charlotte, right?"

"That is correct." Chara intoned, smirking at the woman's grasping for straws.

"Why not let people call you what you were named? Why change it?"

Chara crossed one leg over the other in a mockery of the Therapist, clasping her fingers in her lap as she stared the other woman down.

Her piercing, glittering, scarlet,  _bloody_ eyes. There were very few who could look into Chara's eyes for any period of time before being forced to look away.

It seemed, oddly enough, that Dr. Amos was one of them.

"Hm." Chara murmured. "It's because I'm a Caricature."

"Oh?" Dr. Amos asked, pencil poised over her clipboard. "Why do you feel that way, Chara?"

"Humans go about so filled with emotion." Chara explained, glittering eyes boring into the Doctor's. "Those emotions bleed across their faces at the slightest provocation. A glancing touch, a look, a certain song or keyword, and all those messy  _feelings_ spill out all over their fucking faces."

"And you don't feel those?" Dr. Amos asked gently.

Chara smirked.

"They're heavily muted. I never feel enough to need to show it. I'm not messy. I don't bleed my desperation across my face like a helpless rape victim."

Dr. Amos flinched at her blunt words.

 _Filing that one away._ Chara thought smugly, before continuing.

"My emotions are neat and precise. I feel them when I have need of them. When I am not in need of them, they are absent. I am efficient."

"Efficient..." Dr. Amos murmured, pencil scratching against her clipboard. "That was an...interesting choice of words you used to describe the average person. A 'helpless rape victim.'"

"Stick with what you know." Chara said, dangling the carrot.

Dr. Amos latched onto it immediately, eyes shining with sudden...

Fear. Fear  _for_ her.

Ugh.

"You know, then...? How a helpless rape victim feels?"

"I have since distanced myself. It's better when you've opened up the throat of the one who took your choice away."

Again. A flinch.

But Dr. Amos was immediately back, eyes burning with...

Ugh.

The world narrowed as the woman's SOUL glinted from within her breast, the green, KIND heart pulsing slowly, in time with Chara's own SOUL.

Chara's lip curled in disgust.

"Chara?" She was brought back to the physical world, knowing that the Doctor had been trying to get her attention for some time.

"I apologize." Chara said, unable to keep he displeasure from her voice. "Never doubt the curses of God."

"...What?" Dr. Amos was completely lost.

Chara liked that.

"Something my mother instilled in me from an early age. I've been able to see and interact with the SOULS of others since I was a babe. I was labeled 'witch' and 'Mage' from birth. At first it was because of my eyes. But then they got their proof when I started running my idiot mouth."

Dr. Amos was furiously scribbling again, beginning to sweat once again.

"Humans haven't known about souls for long." Dr. Amos said. "What did you think, when you first saw one?"

"The first I remember, I was 6 years old." Chara said, smirking as she looked Dr. Amos directly in the eye. "One of my father's men had just finished inside me, and suddenly I was looking up at a Yellow heart beating in his chest."

"I'm...I'm sorry...Chara, w-what--"

"Did you know that the color of a SOUL denotes it's inherent properties?' Chara asked her, cutting her off expertly. "My soul is Red. Raw DETERMINATION. Supposedly, time itself would bend to my will if I focused hard enough." Chara smirked at her.

"Chara--"

"Your SOUL is Green, Dr. Amos. The color of KINDNESS. You'd let yourself get gutted in an alley and left to die if it meant saving even one other SOUL."

Dr. Amos went pale.

But Chara was on a roll.

"Yellow. It's actually quite humorous, but Yellow is the color of JUSTICE. Doing what's right, no matter the consequences. But Dr. Amos."

Chara stood, glittering red eyes burning into the other woman as she grinned a dark, mad, not-all-there grin.

"Who says that one man's JUSTICE is the same as another? I wonder what kind of JUSTICE he felt, coming into a six year old girl as she patiently waited for when she would be allowed to return to her silly drawings."

"Ch...Chara..."

Chara pointed at the clock, smiling a small, amused smile.

"I believe my hour is up, Dr. Amos." She said, smile widening just a bit at the flood of relief the older woman tried desperately to hide. "Shall I be back in one week, or two?"

xXx

Chara kept her ear buds half in place as Toriel talked angrily into the phone, allowing herself the pleasure of imagining Dr. Amos's face as she told the motherly goat monster in desperate words that she could not accept Chara as a patient.

Chara smiled, slipping her ear buds the rest of the way into her ears, pencil smoothing over Monster Kid's shocked face as Undyne threw herself in front of the blow that would have sent him into dust.

She quietly penciled in the gash in the Fish's armor, smile growing and growing until it rivaled the Comedian's in the Judgement Hall.

Her laughter wasn't quiet.

She didn't even try to make it so.

_Monster._

_How should I feel?_

 


End file.
